Welcome back to Midweek Madness! Every Wednesday, we drink the Kool-Aid poured by Ok!, Us, In Touch, Star and Life & Style. This week: Katie Holmes, Pippa Middleton, Prince Harry, and Brad's new tattoo inspired by Angelina. [Jezebel]

Page Six report that Coulter's ex, Andrew Stein, defended her against allegations she looked emaciated by saying:

Poor Susan Boyle. Drudge is reporting via The Sun that the Britain's Got Talent runner-up is being admitted to The Priory clinic. Hopefully this isn't true, because that'd just be sad. Reports had her being consoled by psychiatrists before the finale started. This woman's been through the wringer.

Getting stuck in an elevator could be the new path to media stardom. It did wonders for the guy from BusinessWeek who got trapped in one for 41 hours and ended up losing his job and his mental health. But he did get in the New Yorker! Now the parodies have begun, and this one, from Max Silvestri of 23/6, is actually pretty hilarious. Be warned, though: it makes light of the serious issue of elevator survival skills. Clip below.

Eliot Spitzer is going to resign any minute now (or sometime in the next few hours). The resignation will be announced today, and will take effect next Monday. Last night the Times said, rather cryptically, that his wife wanted him to stay on (no reason why—she wanted him out of the house?), others report that Spitzer was holding off on a resignation until his lawyers could get federal prosecutors to promise not to charge him with anything. The New York Post can exclusively report that Governor Spitzer wanted to "set the mood" before his illicit tryst with an unknown "classical-music CD." Oh, and the Guv has enjoyed the company of hookers for ten years or so (or, as the Post puts it, he "has been hopping into bed with harlots for as long as a decade and traveled as far as Florida for steamy trysts"). He is a good tipper. A NY1 reporter just announced that the press gathered outside Spitzer's apartment are "waiting for the money shot." Update: An announcement will come at 11:30. At his apartment, at his midtown office, from room 871 in the Mayflower Hotel—no one knows! It might just be a letter, placed in an envelope with a thousand dollars cash and left on the media's dresser.

When we last checked in on Salon's crazy columnist Cary Tennis, he was angrily telling all his online critics to leave him alone. And he hasn't heard anything from us since! Unfortunately, outside criticism was the only thing keeping Cary tethered to reality. Its absence has him backsliding, as evidenced by his response yesterday to a rich guy asking if he should leave the suburbs because he hates it, even though he has a new, expensive house. What about the commuting situation, and the volatile housing market,and his wife's career? So many factors to consider. Is he being rash? And Cary Tennis replied: Why not move to my imaginary Fantasy Land, instead?

Britney Spears, who is currently being kept, Rapunzel like, in a Los Angeles mental facility, apparently does not approve of karaoke. Or at least when someone sings one of "her" songs. An insider at the ward says that Britney got really upset when someone sang "My Prerogative" during the inmates' karaoke time. Crazy Britney gets crazy mad when crazy patient sings crazy Britney's cover of a song first done by a crazy man (Bobby Brown.) I don't know what's more off-putting: that there is karaoke at a mental ward, or that someone in a mental ward is sending anonymous tips out to gossip blogs. [LA Rag Mag]